Deborah Mason Oxford

Poem: ‘What comes to mind in Ireland’

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What comes to mind in Ireland What is black? An absence of light, the cassocks of parish priests, dark peat in an Irish bog. What is brown? A leather belt, decaying plants, veins of iron in stones, the layered bark of a log. What is grey? Lowering clouds, skies threatening rain over windswept water, the … Read more

Poem: ‘No animals died’

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No animals died Our research on toads and carabids considered predator and prey. Japanese toads and bombardier beetles were ‘introduced’, let’s say. The relationships were explosive – but complied with current laws. We intend to show you footage. Please, hold your applause. Our methodology? Each beetle placed in tongue’s reach of a toad. Each swallowed. … Read more